


Unrequited

by ToastyDehmer



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Bad wrong, Conditioning, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Flashbacks, M/M, Mental Anguish, Mental Breakdown, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Triggers, hurt little comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:40:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29352099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToastyDehmer/pseuds/ToastyDehmer
Summary: Burtoge finds out the new Sniper on RED might be one he knows. Against his better judgement, he goes to find out at the start of their match of the week.(Please heed the tags, I don't use Dead Dove lightly. If you need more info, check beginning notes.)
Relationships: Medic/Spy (Team Fortress 2), Sniper/Spy (Team Fortress 2)
Kudos: 11





	Unrequited

**Author's Note:**

> There are memories referenced about Burtoge's past, a specific mission where he was sent undercover as a sexual slave in a slave ring for over a year. He dealt with conditioning, sexual abuse, and even branding while there. He almost didn't make it out with his mind intact. This happened years ago, one of his first missions where he was in over his head.
> 
> This is the trauma that is referenced and triggered (unintentionally but maliciously nonetheless) in this short ficlet. There is some comfort at the end but it wasn't the main focus on the one-shot. There are also heavy undertones of Dubious Consent. While nothing explicit happens, it is still very much present.
> 
> Please read carefully and I encourage you all to close the oneshot IMMEDIATELY if it becomes overwhelming.
> 
> Another note: This somewhat a continuation from Family. It is not necessary to read it to understand what happens here.

It couldn’t be him. Burtoge thought this even as he knew his nephew wouldn’t lie to him, would never leave him in the dark if they knew the truth. He thought this knowing he was lying to himself and that he was desperate for it to be the truth. It couldn't be him, it couldn’t be him. It just couldn’t because if he had to deal with this ache in chest again he wasn’t sure how he could handle it without falling down that deep, dark, bottomless pit in his mind.

_“So...they’re...okay? You really think they’re okay?”_ _  
_ _“Of course, Jack. I would never endanger our family.”_

He had to make sure despite knowing it wasn’t a lie but it had to be because if it was- no no no. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, _don’t think_ **_about_ ** **_it_**.

_“Heh. Yeah. I know.”_ _  
_ _“...May I ask what brought it all on?”_

Burtoge ran through the gates as soon as they were open, cloaked and bypassing every enemy, every body of RED he could. He had a goal in mind; he needed to see it through. Nothing else mattered. Not how the damned suit felt too constricting, too tight, too close to his skin. Not how the dry, arid New Mexico desert felt like it was boiling even more than last week. Not even how he could hear his team struggling behind him to get out and mete out damage and death.

None of it. Mattered. And it was possible it wouldn’t for the rest of the day. Burtoge knew he’d be useless after this confrontation - because that’s what it would be. A confrontation. But he needed to find out now. Had to.

_“Just...a new guy joined, a Sniper and he’s- he’s a familiar face.”_ _  
_ _“I hope you don’t mean from...before.”_ _  
_ _“Oh god no. Probably would’ve either ran or attacked them on sight if that was the case.”_

The last Sniper had a few nests they prized and adored, knowing them from top to bottom, from every board that creaked to every crack that wind slipped through to how the shadows looked at any given point during the day, afternoon, or night. Out of them, there were two that Burtoge was sure _he_ would try on his first day.

Burtoge ran up the steps to the first, not caring about being quiet. Down the hall, up another set of stairs. Last doorway all the way on the end and out onto the ledge- Burtoge rounded the open doorway. And found no one there.

_“No, they’re the Sniper that trained me when I first joined Mann Co.”_ _  
_ _“Trained you? I didn’t realize the company trained their mercenaries.”_ _  
_ _“They do if you’re fresh to holding a gun.”_ _  
_ _“Ah.”_

But he heard the crack of a rifle and zeroed in on the direction it came from, the sun beating down harshly. Sweat was already starting to soak through his shirt and jacket and slacks and mask. He could feel the little spots starting to bloom just below the corners of his jaw, could feel his forehead just starting to get damp. From his spot he saw his team pushing the cart, slowly making it towards the tunnel. A few moments later and they were out of his sight behind the hill, likely almost to the tunnel itself. Good. If they could make it that far on their own then it was unlikely they would really need him until the end of the track was nearly on them. Just enough to distract the RED Engineer.

Burtoge quickly made his way down from the ledge of the building. He was further back, on the building next to this one. Had to be. And Burtoge had to move before they chose a new spot because if his team was that far then it had to mean they’d be moving soon. If Burtoge no longer had a sight on them then neither did the new Sniper. Unless of course they were waiting in the next area for his team to come around the corner.

...He _would_ do that.

_“And...I guess it just reminded me of….when I first joined. And the shit I was worried about then. I mean- I’m happy to see them-”_ _  
_ _“Your blush says more than happy but go on.”_ _  
_ _“Shut it!”_ _  
_ _“Hah!”_

On the roof. He had to be on the roof then. Sounded like him alright. Back the way Burtoge went but halfway he stopped and instead made for the fire escape, starting to climb up it. Going all the way down would take too long, his team would be too close and the Sniper would’ve moved by then without a fucking doubt. This way was loud. It was noisy and all too noticeable. A vulnerable position to be in because if the enemy Soldier or Demowoman saw him, he’d be a dead man and have to try this all over again.

But for once it seemed luck was on his side and he climbed without being seen. Heard maybe but only by the one person he didn’t care if they heard him because he was still going to find them. And they would know that. After all, they knew him all too well just a few years ago. Very….well.

_“And just who is this Sniper you’re so fond of, kiddo?”_ _  
_ _“What did I just-!”_

Burtoge reached the top soon enough and by the sounds of it just in time because he heard someone beginning to stand up on the flat roof, could hear his team leaving the tunnel and hollering, gathering together for another push.

_“God, jeez, alright! Fine!”_

He quickly threw himself over the top, scrambling up onto his hands and then his feet. He rushed for the corner, wanting to get there before they left, before he really had to chase them down. This wasn’t something he wanted anyone else to see.

_“He’s this weird guy from Minnesota, like me. Gets the kooky phrases I still say sometimes.”_

God forbid Jackson saw. No. No, he couldn’t let Jackson hear this, see this. He didn’t need to know. Burtoge’s drama from his past was his own.

_“Older guy too. Probably around your age. Don’t know if you’ve ever heard of him but his name is Wallace. Wallace Ajax Matthews.”_

Just as he heard footsteps ahead, he rounded the corner and saw-

_“But he likes going by-”_

“Ace.”

Burtoge breathed the name like it was a curse and prayer all in one. And it really was.

Ace didn’t jump. He didn’t flinch. He just- stopped. It wasn’t him freezing. It was too casual to be something like that. No. Burtoge knew him well enough to know he expected this. And the chuckle he gave was all too giving a tell.

His chest ached. He felt his eyes grow misty. This was a mistake. What was he thinking!? This wasn’t a good idea - it was horrible! Ulfgang would’ve told him so. He shouldn’t have come. He should’ve avoided this at all costs because this was going to hurt and it was only going to hurt him, rip that old wound right the fuck open and dig it deeper-

“Was wondering when you’d show up, _Burtie_ ,” Ace hummed, voice snide and low and Burtoge missed it and wished he would never hear it again. Ace turned around.

At one point, Burtoge had loved those two-toned green eyes of his. Loved how it made them similar and how it played with his favorite color just right. One part was a bright, forest green and the other was the color of grass in the fall, caught in the moment of growth and death before dying for the season. Now though...all he could think of was acid, toxic acid. Something that painfully ate away at him from the inside out with just a look. Burtoge shrunk away from it, flinching. From it and the nickname.

That grin Ace had on their lips, that cruel grin spread wider and they stalked closer.

“You know, I knew you were on that team,” Ace said so brightly, waving a finger like they were having a normal conversation, like they were pals. It was mocking. And it _hurt_. Another vicious chuckle. “But I couldn’t decide if you’d come right away like the simpering bitch in heat you constantly are….or wait until the last possible moment like the lazy, good-for-nothing coward you also are.”

Three years. And it still hurt. It shouldn’t. It _really_ shouldn’t. But Burtoge didn’t have a choice in the matter.

They were five meters apart. Then four. Then three. At two, Burtoge shifted away. At one he started walking backwards. Still Ace followed, eyes and gait predatory and mean, like a feral dog only looking to bite and break some poor animal’s neck. Opportunistic.

“Made a bet with myself even. Ha! If you waited until the last minute, I’d have just killed you without waiting for you to say a single word. A coward doesn’t deserve a damn thing.”

Ace slung his rifle over his back. Burtoge could hear the fighting slowly getting closer, heard the ding of a progress point being taken by his teammates. And still none of it mattered. It didn’t matter when his back hit the wall. It didn’t matter when Ace crowded in close. It didn’t matter when the Sniper brought a hand up and held it over Burtoge’s bared neck and kept it there, not a single bit of pressure but Burtoge could feel the heat of his hand. And he felt helpless because…

“But you came right away. And good little bitches get a reward, don’t they? So, go ahead and say something. I know you would’ve had at least _something_ planned out.”

He couldn’t fight back. Couldn’t even say something. His tongue refused to move, his lips refused to shape the words. Ace was right, he _did_ have something planned but all of it was stuck in his stomach like a dull lead weight, painfully. And he couldn’t fight that either because…

“What?” Ace drawled the word with a fake concerned tone, so obviously fake. “Cat got your tongue? Or….” And then he stopped, eyes popping wide, eyebrows jumping high, jaw falling, lips parting a sliver. And then. And then he started grinning and glaring, a scowl mixing in with it all and his _hand around Burtoge’s throat started tightening._ And Burtoge panicked, hands moving to grip Ace’s wrist but still unable to pull, to stop him or say anything even though he _didn’t want any of this._ But his body lied and his face flushed and Ace looked like the cat that got the canary.

Burtoge couldn’t fight back because…

“You still love me, don’t you?”

He heard it above all else like a gunshot going off right next to his ear. Couldn’t ignore it if he tried. Because….he did. He shouldn’t. He really, really, **_really_ ** shouldn’t. Especially after everything Ace had done. But Burtoge did.

“Oh you are one sick fuck, alright.”

It **_HURT_**. It used to be so soft, so joking, so SILLY. And now-

Burtoge tried turning his head, to look somewhere else because he was wrong, he didn’t want this confrontation, he was better off not knowing. But Ace-

“Ah ah ah!” Rough fingers grabbed his face, fingertips digging into the flesh of his cheeks like they were made out of steel. And Ace made Burtoge look right at him. “ **You will look at me when I’m talking to you.** ”

And Burtoge bit his lower lip and cursed himself because this was wrong but _he wanted more_.

Ace’s hand on his neck flexed and Burtoge tried biting back his gasp. Ace's laugh was- a bark of something mean...and jaded. He stepped closer, pressed his body against Burtoge and they were one long line and the pressure-

Burtoge’s eyes slipped shut. He breathed in, the air fluttering in his lungs right alongside his heart. Oh how he ached in more ways than one. This was wrong. So wrong.

“You’re pathetic,” he delightfully hummed in the Spy’s ear. “You’ve had, what, three years now to let this go? Why are you still holdin’ on? You know I’ll never love you back.”

Gods above it BURNED. He knew that! Alright!? He knew it would never. Fucking. HAPPEN. Burtoge wasn’t dumb. He got it the first time around.

“Open those pretty eyes, hm?” That hand turned gentle and Burtoge knew it wasn’t real but he fell for it all the same, craving how Ace's thumb gently drew a path down over his lips and down to his chin. Burtoge opened his eyes and- no- nonono he couldn’t cry. NO. NO! But the tears fell and he felt something crack inside.

“You always did look prettier cryin’.” Ace huffed another chuckle. “Now. Let go.”

Burtoge’s hands fell limp, hanging at his sides. And still Ace held him by the throat, the pressure a constant thing.

“I think you need a reminder, Burtie. Maybe this will help you...get over this.

“You’re a whore.” Gone with the falsely kind tone and Burtoge panicked. He didn’t need a repeat performance. He would’ve done anything to keep that fake, cheery tone from before if he knew this was coming. There was no way he could take it again. He couldn’t. The first time he was lucky enough for it to be off hours but this time- this time there would be no hiding. “How could anyone love a whore? Especially one as broken as you. I mean, you can’t stand _anyone_ touching your back without nightmares keeping you from sleeping for the next fourty-eight hours and you won’t tell **ANYONE** about them. Hell, I bet you still have that **fucking** spot. You know, the one where when someone presses it...you just go limp. Like a fucking doll.”

His eyes stared forward and saw nothing. Nothing but vile green. And he heard nothing but vitriol. The tears streamed freely now. Already memories were trying to overwhelm him. He could barely keep them apart. Times with Ace started mixing with times further in his past, the ones he tried so hard to forget. Constantly. And he couldn’t stop the floods.

Cigarette burns on his chest and back and feet and legs mixed with roving kisses. Knife stabs blurred with hands grabbing so hard they left bruises. Lashes collided with memories of nails raking across his back. And that burning branding iron- Burtoge swore then he could see it in Ace’s eyes.

_“That’s a good dolly.”_

Burtoge wanted to scream.

“You’ve got baggage, Burtie. The kind no one wants to deal with. You’re fucking broken. Loving you would be a pain for anyone. You get clingy. You get ideas in your head and you don’t shut up about them.”

Please…

“And the biggest part of it all?”

No more.

“ _You and I both know you could never possibly really love someone_.”

Ace let go of Burtoge and- and he dropped. Like a sack of rocks. Down to his knees. Blank, teary eyes still looked up at Ace, memories keeping him from looking away. Part of him knew if he did there wouldn’t be any press on that spot or a new burn scar added to the collection. But memories and reality were hard to tell apart right then.

Ace pulled out his SMG. And aimed it at the center of Burtoge’s forehead. The cold barrel pressed against his clothed head and Burtoge leaned into it slightly, waiting. Waiting because he wouldn’t be moving on his own commands for….quite a while.

“Now be a good bitch...and stay. The fuck. Away.”

He didn’t even hear the gun go off before he died. It felt like no time at all had passed before he was back in respawn. He came back standing but that didn’t last long. No, he was back down on the floor on his knees the second he was back. And he stayed there, staring at the floor and still not seeing it or the world around him.

His head was too busy playing through every horrible memory and then repeating and repeating and repeating and repeating and-

Burtoge didn’t know how much time had passed when he felt someone cupping his cheeks. He saw teal rubber gloves before his gaze was gently, tenderly brought to look up at- at Ulfgang. It took a moment to remember the name. The doctor looked down at him, normally stoic grey eyes filled with fear and worry, his long blonde ponytail hanging over his shoulder.

He felt like he would normally fix that. But he couldn’t get his body to move. Couldn’t even make his fingers twitch.

Ulfgang said something. It was static to Burtoge but he knew somewhere it was important. He needed to respond. Still, he could get no part of his body to move.

_“That’s a good dolly.”_

That greasy voice was in his ears again, taunting, playing with him. Please. No more.

Warm arms slowly guided him into a hug. It was warm. It was nice. Burtoge’s nose was buried in Ulfgang’s shoulder. Their long blonde hair was smooshed between them and his head. It smelled nice. It smelled familiar. It smelled like safety.

His vision cleared a little. Respawn. Burtoge was in respawn. The clock told him working hours had passed… a few hours ago. And he’d been in here since….nearly the beginning of their day. Ulfgang didn’t even have his Medipack on his shoulders, the gun gone. Had Ulfgang come back? Had he looked for Burtoge? Why?

Ace was right. 

“He’s not.” Burtoge could finally hear what Ulfgang was saying. “Nothing what he said to you is true, Burtoge, _mein leibling, mein schatz._ Nothing.”

All he wanted to do was curl into Ulfgang. A sob tore through Burtoge and the doctor gathered him in his arms, leaning back to draw Burtoge into his lap. Slowly, the Spy was able to raise a hand. He shakily brought it up and when he grabbed the coat covering the back of Ulfgang’s shoulder, he clung. He clung tightly. And he buried his face in Ulfgang’s neck.

Silently, he cried. Through it, Ulfgang held him.

Burtoge knew he should let go of Ace, was frustrated that he couldn’t. But...he should’ve expected it. Being unable to love someone like that… And of course, when the time came that he finally could, he fell for the wrong person. It was a mistake that had ended with him going thirty steps back. He’d been worse than before he even joined Mann Co. And now-...

“I have you.” Ulfgang started rocking him. Another sob broke free.

“Why couldn’t I have loved you instead.” Burtoge's words were barely there, more of an airy whisper than any real spoken thing. But Ulfgang must’ve heard them.

“Shhhhh… don’t start beating yourself over past mistakes.” He said this but Burtoge could still feel the pain because he knew Ulfgang had thought the same thing back when everything first shattered into pieces. “You can’t help where your heart goes.”

But that part… that part sounded more like he’s accepted it as truth. That… it settled some part of him.

Burtoge closed his eyes. He was just...so...tired.

“Rest now, _liebling._ I will stay by your side. Always. I promise.”


End file.
